Bricks and Mortar
by Joanna May
Summary: Sirius is sent to lie low at Remus's over the summer, awakening old emotions and anxieties in both men. RemusSirius, Post GoF. Mentions of Sirius/Narcissa, but they're vague. Strong language.
1. Chapter 1

"Lie low. Stay out of trouble. Don't do anything rash. Don't be stupid."

A dark shadow stalked down the winding country lanes. The sun was setting, and the breeze was starting to turn to a chill. The overpowering scent of summer evenings hung in the air, and the pollen was almost choking. Birds were singing in the far-distance, and the trees seemed to be toying with his hearing, remaining silent for an eternity, before making him start as they rustled gently. In battle and surveillance, having the sharper senses of a dog was a useful asset. In rural Somerset, they were nothing more than an annoyance.

He had reached his destination. The small cottage stood small and unobtrusively in front of him. The curtains were neat and tidy, the front well kept, and the garden blooming. It was your typical country cottage, completely unremarkable. If anything, it seemed timid and frail. The house itself seemed to be retreating into the ivy covering its front, as though wishing to remain hidden from anything that could disturb its peace and tranquillity. Yet to Sirius, it seemed like an impregnable fortress. The ivy may as well have been barbed wire, and the oak tree by the crooked gate a proud and fierce sentinel, armed with arrows and spears rather than simply acorns.

Since everywhere around the house was so deserted, Sirius felt it was safe to return to his true form. He felt his limbs lengthen as he transformed, his face retreating and returning to more human features. He felt he could breathe again, no longer troubled by his super-sensitivity. Of course, with the human form came human feelings. The doubt and paranoia. The guilt, at exactly how badly he had affected the person inside this house's life. The nervousness and fear at what would happen when he raised a hand and knocked on the door.

Would he shout and scream, or would he simply give him a resigned look and a cup of tea? Sirius knew that the man had manners, and prized them above all else. He'd had to, Sirius supposed. Manners and routine were all you had to fall back on, when your world came crashing down and there was no one else to pick up the pieces.

Only one way to find out… Sirius raised a hand and banged loudly on the door. His heart in his throat, he counted how long it would take the man to reach the door.

_One…Two…Three…Four…Five… Six…Seven…Eight…Nine…Ten…_

He knew from experience that if Remus took a long time, it meant he was straightening cushions on his sofa, and putting papers away in a drawer. Remus taking a long time to answer the door meant it was a stranger. Tidying the house before opening the door meant that Remus was uncomfortable showing his faults, felt he had to put on a show. It was strange, he thought, how much you could tell from something so small.

_Eleven…Twelve…Thirteen…Fourteen…Fifteen…Sixteen…Seventeen…Eighteen…Nineteen…Twenty_

The sounds of footsteps on the stairs made Sirius jump again. Remus always took his time to walk down the stairs, making sure he stepped on each one in turn. Sirius had used to tease him about it, calling him old before his time. Remus had just ignored him, and continued walking down every step, while Sirius pulled faces at him and jumped the bottom six.

_Twenty-one…Twenty-two…Twenty-three…Twenty-four…Twenty- five…Twenty-six…Twenty-seven…Twenty-eight…Twenty-nine…_

He heard the scrape of a key in the lock, and a heavy clank as the bolt turned. Then he heard the slight jangling as the keys were hung back on the wall. On the small silver hook that Remus had insisted on installing one summer, when Sirius had lost his keys for the thirtieth time. If you hang them back on the hook, Sirius, you'll always know where they are. Well, that's what Remus had claimed.

_Thirty… _

The door was yanked open, quickly as though Remus was afraid he might change his mind halfway through and slam it. Sirius's first impression was that Remus was old now. His once brown hair had grown longer, and the flecks of grey that Sirius had once insisted made Remus look more distinguished, were now liberal streaks. Even his face seemed grey and tired, as though simply walking to the door were too much of a struggle to bother with.

The silence hung in the air, but it wasn't a lazy, restful silence like that Sirius had become accustomed to on his long journey from Hogwarts. It was tense, as though each was afraid to speak, out of either sheer embarrassment, or shock.

"Honey, I'm home" Sirius attempted a light-hearted, jocular tone, but as soon as the words slipped out of his mouth, he felt them fall flat.

"This isn't a _home_, Sirius" Remus sighed, turning on his heels, leaving Sirius trailing in his wake. "It's a house. Just bricks and mortar. Nothing more, nothing less."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Chapter Two. Hope you like it and I'm sorry it took me over a month to get this written. Blame writer's block and exam time pressures! _

As they entered the living room, Remus gestured towards a chair and Sirius gratefully sat down. He had been walking for days to get to this little cottage, and he wasn't entirely sure that the journey had been a wise one. He watched Remus closely, wondering if he was going to say anything. It would seem not.

"What, no tea?" Sirius asked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"Do you want tea, Sirius?" Remus asked, his voice hard and cold, more a challenge than a genuine question.

"No, not really", Sirius lowered his gaze, feeling intimidated.

This was madness, Sirius thought. Since when had Remus intimidated him? This was the man who thought all the world's problems could be solved with butter soaked crumpets. That the wizarding world should lay aside their arms, and settle their power struggles over breakfast foods and a nice spot of orange juice. If there were a less intimidating man in the world, Sirius would have liked to meet him.

"Remus, I…" Sirius began, before trailing off awkwardly. He had no idea what he had intended to say, but he just had to break that awful tense silence.

"Yes?" Remus was looking at him, his amber eyes boring into Sirius. He seemed genuinely curious as to what Sirius was trying to say.

"I just wanted to say…" Sirius cast his mind around for the words. Any words at all. "Thank you for letting me stay here."

"It wasn't my decision, Sirius, and I'd be lying if I told you that I volunteered for this." Remus shook his head. "Dumbledore asked me to do this, and who am I to refuse?"

Sirius's face flickered with hurt and he flushed. "I see."

He picked at a stray thread on his dark coloured trousers. Standard Azkaban prisoner attire. Since he'd been on the run, he hadn't had a chance to change his clothes. They had been made to fit him when he had entered Azkaban, a strong lad of twenty-two, all muscles and brawn. A few short weeks in that wretched hellhole had been enough to change that. Now they hung off his scrawny frame, the excess fabric of his trousers wrinkling and emphasising his protruding hips. The shirt swamped him now. It occurred to him now that after fourteen years in the same clothes, he probably stank.

"I think I need a shower." He announced. "Can I use your bathroom?"

Remus just continued to look at him, that same measured stare refusing to give any hint of emotion. "Of course. You know where it is. Towels are-"

"-In the airing cupboard?" Sirius finished, out of habit. As soon as he'd said it, he hesitated, feeling like he had been too presumptuous.

What might have been a smile flickered across Remus's face, but it was soon gone. "I forget how well you know this place."

"I used to know you that well too, Moony," Sirius sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he rose from his chair. "I'd like to know you that well again, if you'd let me"

Remus's eyes widened in surprise, but Sirius didn't see as he headed out the door. Halfway up the stairs, he stopped and hit his forehead with his palm. He hadn't meant it like that, but he could already tell that Remus thought so. He wanted to be Remus's friend more than anything at this point in time, he didn't want to throw him down on the carpet and shag his brains out.

Well, he did. But friendship was more important at that moment, strange as that might have been for Sirius Black.

Grabbing a towel from the airing cupboard, Sirius headed towards the bathroom, still torturing himself over his choice of words. Every time he thought about what he had said, his insides squirmed and burned. The hot water of the shower did nothing to solve his dilemma, so he reached for the temperature dial and yanked it as cold as it would go.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit." He yelped, as he rubbed shower gel over his body. "Holy fuck, that's cold."

At least it had taken his mind off Remus and their troubles for a moment, Sirius thought, as he turned off the water and wrapped his towel around his waist. He looked at the floor, at the clothes he had left strewn on the mat. He didn't ever want to wear them again, so he seized them from the floor and marched to the bedroom. Swinging his arm backwards, he tossed the offending garments into the bin, as though he were bowling a cricket ball.

Ah, now the dilemma. What exactly was he going to wear? He hadn't any clothes of his own, so he supposed he would have to borrow Remus's. Well, until he could find someone to go get him some robes from Madam Malkin's. It was so tiresome being a wanted criminal and having to get others to do everything for you. Especially when you hadn't even done anything bad to warrant the attention.

Sirius grasped the handle of the wardrobe door and flung it open. What he saw surprised him. The top rail was full of Remus's clothing, which wasn't unusual, considering it was his wardrobe. The bottom rail, however, was filled with clothes that had belonged, once upon a time, to Sirius himself.

He sat down heavily on the bed, too overwhelmed with emotion to stand and dress himself. He couldn't believe that Remus had kept his clothes for so long. Fourteen years and Remus had apparently been so convinced that Sirius was coming back that he had kept everything. After everything that Sirius had done to the man, he clearly still felt something. It should have been a relief, but it had completely wrong-footed Sirius.

Pulling on a pair of his old jeans and a jumper- miles too big for him, just as the Azkaban clothes had been- he headed downstairs, his heart hammering in his chest as he wondered what to say to his old friend.

Remus looked up as Sirius re-entered the room. On seeing what Sirius had chosen to wear, Remus flushed, embarrassed that Sirius should have inadvertently caught him being so sentimental.

"Yes, I kept them, Sirius." He hesitated. "What else was I meant to do with them, no charity shop would want your flea-ridden gear now, would they?"

Sirius smiled at Remus's attempts to stay light-hearted. Taking a seat next to Remus on the sofa, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I fucked everything up for us, didn't I?"

Remus nodded, and sipped his tea.


	3. Chapter 3

The atmosphere in the small living room had lost some of its tension, and Sirius allowed himself to relax slightly in the over-stuffed sofa. They would have to talk about what had happened. That much was clear, and Sirius was fairly certain that it would have to be him who initiated it. After all, he was the one who had hurt Remus, and it was on his conscience.

"I didn't want to leave you, Remus. You must know that"

"Must I?" Remus sighed, setting his teacup down on the coaster and looking up at Sirius. For a moment, the hardness in his face faded, but it was then replaced by a steely tone and cold eyes. "What else were you playing at, when you fucked Narcissa?"

Sirius blinked. He wasn't used to hearing words like that coming from his old friend. And yet, he knew he deserved them completely. What he and Narcissa had done was little more than fucking. There were no niceties like "making love" to describe it. Even "having sex" seemed too dainty a term for what they had done. It was cold, hard fucking. It hadn't even been love or desire or passion which had driven them. It had been cruelty. Each had wanted to push the boundaries. To see how far they could go before the other backed down.

Only Blacks never backed down.

"I would never have left you for her." Sirius shook his head vehemently, wanting to make his denial clear. "Never."

"Am I meant to be grateful for that, Sirius?" Remus retorted. "Were you doing me a favour?"

Sirius couldn't think of an answer to that. He understood entirely how Remus felt, and he loathed himself for being so selfish. He had been so caught up in his mind games with his cousin that, truth be told, he had never considered Remus's feelings for a second. Never mind that they were supposedly committed to each other. Never mind that they supposedly loved one another.

"Did you never stop to think how much it would hurt me?" Remus pressed on, mercilessly. "Did you think that it somehow didn't count because it was a woman you were fucking, not a man? Did you think I was a push over who wouldn't mind anyway? That I'd be so grateful that the great, Pureblood Sirius Black would deign to look at me, that I'd put up and shut up?"

"Don't be stupid!" Sirius shouted back.

"Why not? Is that your prerogative, Sirius?" Remus screamed, sounding near hysterical. "Are you the only one allowed to do stupid things? As long as you're alright, then great. Do what you please, and hang the consequences?"

"I love you, Moony. I always have, and I always will. Narcissa meant nothing to me, nothing at all!"

Silence hung in the air at these words. Sirius glanced at the coffee table, and noticed Remus's hands were physically shaking. The fair haired man seemed to wilt back into his chair, and for one dreadful moment Sirius thought he was going to faint.

"Oh, Sirius. Can't you see that's worse?" Remus sighed, sounding far older than his thirty five years. "What about when someone comes along who does mean something to you? Something more than 

I do, perhaps" He held up a hand to stop Sirius interjecting. "You say it won't happen now, but what if it does? If you could betray me for someone who means nothing to you, why would you hesitate to do so for someone who does?"

"Because I realise what a fucking moron that would make me." Sirius snapped. "Remus, you have no idea what I've been through these past years."

Remus's head snapped up so he was looking Sirius right in the eyes. "Excuse me?"

"I've had a lot of time to think. And believe me, I have done nothing but think. Do you know what kept me sane these past fourteen years?"

"Your belief in your own innocence, if Dumbledore is to be believed" Remus remarked, raising an eyebrow.

"The thought of you. I needed to apologise for what I did. When I ran away that night, I was always planning to come back and try and make things right. It was just my shitty luck that the Dementors got to me first."

"The mood you were in when you left that night, I almost wondered sometimes if you were glad to have an excuse not to come back" Remus smiled thinly.

Sirius shook his head and looked at his lap. He had always been planning to come home. He couldn't imagine a life without Remus by his side. He knew that he had done wrong. All he had wanted was some time to cool down. For both of them to cool down, before they talked things through. That was the good thing about him and Remus. They always talked things through in the end. Even when it took fourteen years of heartache to reach that point.

Sensing that Remus had calmed down slightly, Sirius wondered if he should seize his chance. He still loved the man sat next to him. It was true that in fourteen years he had thought of no-one else. Steeling his nerves, Sirius tentatively reached out his hand, before placing it firmly over Remus's. His heart was in his mouth as Remus turned to look at him, his surprise written all across the faintly scarred face.

"Remus, can you forgive me?" Sirius muttered, hardly daring to breathe. "please, let's put this behind us?"


	4. Chapter 4

Remus stared at their entwined hands, considering his next response. He knew that the ball was in his court, and that he had to decide what it was he truly wanted. Not daring to look into Sirius's eyes, he moved his gaze around the room. He glanced out of the window, as if highly interested in what was going on outside. In truth, he was just buying more time.

Deep down, he knew what he wanted to reply. He wanted to say yes, he could forgive Sirius everything and they could pick up where they left off fourteen years ago. However, he was still hurt. Sirius had caused him so much pain when he had been with Narcissa, and he didn't want to let him off that lightly. His heart said to forgive Sirius, but his head wanted to make him suffer a little bit longer.

"I don't know, Sirius." He mused aloud, looking back at their hands. He couldn't bring himself to look into Sirius's eyes.

Sirius felt like his heart might burst with disappointment and frustration as he heard those words. His cheeks flushed a dull violet colour with embarrassment, as he withdrew his hand. It was stupid of him, he thought, to expect Remus to forgive him so easily. Remus was able to hold a grudge like no one he knew. He would brood and sulk until he'd blown things out of proportion.

"I've told you I'm sorry, Remus, what more do you want?" He muttered, his voice thick with mortification. "I can't force you to forgive me, but equally I can't take back what I did"

As Sirius removed his hand, Remus had felt a pang of disappointment himself. "I don't know, Sirius," He repeated slowly. "I want to forgive you, but I don't know if I can. I don't know what is it, I just need something more"

Sirius felt a rise of hope in his chest, and before he knew what he was doing, he heard his own voice, thick and husky, responding. "I'm sure I can think of something"

Remus looked up at the tone of his voice, and before he knew what was happening their lips were together, and he felt a familiar rush of excitement that only Sirius could bring. As their mouths crashed together, he felt Sirius's strong hand on the back of his head, roughly pulling Remus even closer to him. He felt himself give a small moan as the nails on Sirius's other hand dug themselves into the flesh of his back, and he sank his teeth hard into Sirius's bottom lip.

There was no real affection in the kiss, Sirius thought. If anything, it was an expression of all the pent up frustration they had both felt for the past fourteen years. He could feel his insides burn and stir as their tongues fought for dominance, as if both wanted to prove they had missed the other more. It had been so long since he had been touched by anyone at all, let alone Remus, he felt as if he was experiencing everything for the first time.

After a few moments, they tore apart from one another, both breathing heavily. Remus could feel his heart beating ferociously in his chest, as he struggled to regain his composure. Now that they were apart, he felt shaky, as though the kiss had sapped all the strength he'd been saving for talking. "I feel like I should say something dreadfully witty now" He said, in a wobbly voice, smiling apologetically.

"Tell me you forgive me" Sirius implored, his eyes staring so deeply into Remus's that it was almost unnerving.

"I'm not a slut, Sirius" Remus admonished gently, rubbing his chin where Sirius's stubble had rubbed against him. "You can't buy my forgiveness, even with a kiss like that"

"You never did give it up easily, Moony." Sirius grinned wickedly. He hesitated, the added seriously, "But do you forgive me?"

"I think so, Pads" Remus nodded. "it's just sometimes I don't think you appreciate how hard it is for me to be with you at all, so when you fuck around..."

"Tell me, then" Sirius murmured, rubbing the pad of his thumb along Remus's jaw line. "I can't understand these things unless you explain them to me."

Remus drew back from his friend's touch and turned to face him properly. Looking at Sirius's face, he was surprised to realise that he still felt that same thrill of amazement every time he looked at Sirius. The wonder that someone like him could ever be even vaguely interested in a loser like him. It was the same feeling he had experience all those years ago as a weedy eleven year old on the Hogwarts Express, terrified of the cool kids who apparently wanted to be his friends. The long dark hair that framed the handsome face with the strong jaw. He still couldn't grasp that such an attractive, dangerous man would kiss him, Remus J Lupin, like that.

"You know how insecure I am, Sirius, and you know the reasons why. You know that people see us together and they're repulsed by us daring to be together. But it's different for you. You're the cool one, the handsome one, the one everyone loves. The fact you're gay doesn't even register with people." He sighed. "But I'm not like you. People look at me and they see a werewolf. A vile creature who will probably maul their children and eat their wife. And on top of that, I'm gay. And not particularly funny or attractive."

Sirius's mouth twitched in amusement, but he tried to keep it under control. "Moony, I find you attractive. And you're clever, even if you aren't acting it at the moment." His shoulders began to shake with the effort of suppressing the laughter. "And do you really think that I'm going to be the most popular dinner guest in the community, when everyone thinks I'm a murderer?"

Remus smiled. "We're aright pair aren't we? The werewolf and the murderer" He sighed. "We're never going to be invited anywhere ever again."

That familiar wicked grin spread across Sirius's lips. "Suits me down to the ground, Moony." He replied, pushing his friend down flat on the sofa and climbing on top of him. "It looks like you're stuck with me"

Remus opened his mouth to reply, but readily allowed Sirius to silence him with another kiss. This one was more tender than the first, but it did nothing to diminish the quickening of Remus's heartbeat as he allowed himself to be dominated.


End file.
